The Bible in Spain

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O, man, man, seek not to dive into the mystery of moral good and
evil; confess thyself a worm, cast thyself on the earth, and murmur
with thy lips in the dust, Jesus, Jesus!

What most surprised me with respect to the prisoners, was their
good behaviour; I call it good when all things are taken into
consideration, and when I compare it with that of the general class
of prisoners in foreign lands. They had their occasional bursts of
wild gaiety, their occasional quarrels, which they were in the
habit of settling in a corner of the inferior court with their long
knives; the result not unfrequently being death, or a dreadful gash
in the face or the abdomen; but, upon the whole, their conduct was
infinitely superior to what might have been expected from the
inmates of such a place. Yet this was not the result of coercion,
or any particular care which was exercised over them; for perhaps
in no part of the world are prisoners so left to themselves and so
utterly neglected as in Spain: the authorities having no farther
anxiety about them, than to prevent their escape; not the slightest
attention being paid to their moral conduct and not a thought
bestowed upon their health, comfort or mental improvement, whilst
within the walls. Yet in this prison of Madrid, and I may say in
Spanish prisons in general, for I have been an inmate of more than
one, the ears of the visitor are never shocked with horrid
blasphemy and obscenity, as in those of some other countries, and
more particularly in civilized France; nor are his eyes outraged
and himself insulted, as he would assuredly be, were he to look
down upon the courts from the galleries of the Bicetre. And yet in
this prison of Madrid were some of the most desperate characters in
Spain: ruffians who had committed acts of cruelly and atrocity
sufficient to make the flesh shudder. But gravity and sedateness
are the leading characteristics of the Spaniards, and the very
robber, except in those moments when he is engaged in his
occupation, and then no one is more sanguinary, pitiless, and
wolfishly eager for booty, is a being who can be courteous and
affable, and who takes pleasure in conducting himself with sobriety
and decorum.

Happily, perhaps, for me, that my acquaintance with the ruffians of
Spain commenced and ended in the towns about which I wandered, and
in the prisons into which I was cast for the Gospel's sake, and
that, notwithstanding my long and frequent journeys, I never came
in contact with them on the road or in the despoblado.

The most ill-conditioned being in the prison was a Frenchman,
though probably the most remarkable. He was about sixty years of
age, of the middle stature, but thin and meagre, like most of his
countrymen; he had a villainously-formed head, according to all the
rules of craniology, and his features were full of evil expression.
He wore no hat, and his clothes, though in appearance nearly new,
were of the coarsest description. He generally kept aloof from the
rest, and would stand for hours together leaning against the walls
with his arms folded, glaring sullenly on what was passing before
him. He was not one of the professed valientes, for his age
prevented his assuming so distinguished a character, and yet all
the rest appeared to hold him in a certain awe: perhaps they
feared his tongue, which he occasionally exerted in pouring forth
withering curses on those who incurred his displeasure. He spoke
perfectly good Spanish, and to my great surprise excellent Basque,
in which he was in the habit of conversing with Francisco, who,
lolling from the window of my apartment, would exchange jests and
witticisms with the prisoners in the court below, with whom he was
a great favourite.

One day when I was in the patio, to which I had free admission
whenever I pleased, by permission of the alcayde, I went up to the
Frenchman, who stood in his usual posture, leaning against the
wall, and offered him a cigar. I do not smoke myself, but it will
never do to mix among the lower classes of Spain unless you have a
cigar to present occasionally. The man glared at me ferociously
for a moment, and appeared to be on the point of refusing my offer
with perhaps a hideous execration. I repeated it, however,
pressing my hand against my heart, whereupon suddenly the grim
features relaxed, and with a genuine French grimace, and a low bow,
he accepted the cigar, exclaiming, "Ah, Monsieur, pardon, mais
c'est faire trop d'honneur a un pauvre diable comme moi."

"Not at all," said I, "we are both fellow prisoners in a foreign
land, and being so we ought to countenance each other. I hope that
whenever I have need of your co-operation in this prison you will
afford it me."

"Ah, Monsieur," exclaimed the Frenchman in rapture, "vous avez bien
raison; il faut que les eirangers se donnent la main dans ce . . .
pays de barbares. Tenez," he added, in a whisper, "if you have any
plan for escaping, and require my assistance, I have an arm and a
knife at your service: you may trust me, and that is more than you
could any of these sacres gens ici," glancing fiercely round at his
fellow prisoners.

"You appear to be no friend to Spain and the Spaniards," said I.
"I conclude that you have experienced injustice at their hands.
For what have they immured you in this place?"

"Pour rien du tout, c'est a dire pour une bagatelle; but what can
you expect from such animals? For what are you imprisoned? Did I
not hear say for Gypsyism and sorcery?"

"Perhaps you are here for your opinions?"

"Ah, mon Dieu, non; je ne suis pas homme a semblable betise. I
have no opinions. Je faisois . . . mais ce n'importe; je me trouve
ici, ou je creve de faim."

"I am sorry to see a brave man in such a distressed condition,"
said I; "have you nothing to subsist upon beyond the prison
allowance? Have you no friends?"

"Friends in this country, you mock me; here one has no friends,
unless one buy them. I am bursting with hunger; since I have been
here I have sold the clothes off my back, that I might eat, for the
prison allowance will not support nature, and of half of that we
are robbed by the Batu, as they call the barbarian of a governor.
Les haillons which now cover me were given by two or three devotees
who sometimes visit here. I would sell them if they would fetch
aught. I have not a sou, and for want of a few crowns I shall be
garroted within a month unless I can escape, though, as I told you
before, I have done nothing, a mere bagatelle; but the worst crimes
in Spain are poverty and misery."

"I have heard you speak Basque, are you from French Biscay?"

"I am from Bordeaux, Monsieur; but I have lived much on the Landes
and in Biscay, travaillant a mon metier. I see by your look that
you wish to know my history. I shall not tell it you. It contains
nothing that is remarkable. See, I have smoked out your cigar; you
may give me another, and add a dollar if you please, nous sommes
creves ici de faim. I would not say as much to a Spaniard, but I
have a respect for your countrymen; I know much of them; I have met
them at Maida and the other place." {18}

"Nothing remarkable in his history!" Why, or I greatly err, one
chapter of his life, had it been written, would have unfolded more
of the wild and wonderful than fifty volumes of what are in general
called adventures and hairbreadth escapes by land and sea. A
soldier! what a tale could that man have told of marches and
retreats, of battles lost and won, towns sacked, convents
plundered; perhaps he had seen the flames of Moscow ascending to
the clouds, and had "tried his strength with nature in the wintry
desert," pelted by the snow-storm, and bitten by the tremendous
cold of Russia: and what could he mean by plying his trade in
Biscay and the Landes, but that he had been a robber in those wild
regions, of which the latter is more infamous for brigandage and
crime than any other part of the French territory. Nothing
remarkable in his history! then what history in the world contains
aught that is remarkable?

I gave him the cigar and dollar: he received them, and then once
more folding his arms, leaned back against the wall and appeared to
sink gradually into one of his reveries. I looked him in the face
and spoke to him, but he did not seem either to hear or see me.
His mind was perhaps wandering in that dreadful valley of the
shadow, into which the children of earth, whilst living,
occasionally find their way; that dreadful region where there is no
water, where hope dwelleth not, where nothing lives but the undying
worm. This valley is the facsimile of hell, and he who has entered
it, has experienced here on earth for a time what the spirits of
the condemned are doomed to suffer through ages without end.

He was executed about a month from this time. The bagatelle for
which he was confined was robbery and murder by the following
strange device. In concert with two others, he hired a large house
in an unfrequented part of the town, to which place he would order
tradesmen to convey valuable articles, which were to be paid for on
delivery; those who attended paid for their credulity with the loss
of their lives and property. Two or three had fallen into the
snare. I wished much to have had some private conversation with
this desperate man, and in consequence begged of the alcayde to
allow him to dine with me in my own apartment; whereupon Monsieur
Basompierre, for so I will take the liberty of calling the
governor, his real name having escaped my memory, took off his hat,
and, with his usual smile and bow, replied in purest Castilian,
"English Cavalier, and I hope I may add friend, pardon me, that it
is quite out of my power to gratify your request, founded, I have
no doubt, on the most admirable sentiments of philosophy. Any of
the other gentlemen beneath my care shall, at any time you desire
it, be permitted to wait upon you in your apartment. I will even
go so far as to cause their irons, if irons they wear, to be
knocked off in order that they may partake of your refection with
that comfort which is seemly and convenient: but to the gentleman
in question I must object; he is the most evil disposed of the
whole of this family, and would most assuredly breed a funcion
either in your apartment or in the corridor, by an attempt to
escape. Cavalier, me pesa, but I cannot accede to your request.
But with respect to any other gentleman, I shall be most happy,
even Balseiro, who, though strange things are told of him, still
knows how to comport himself, and in whose behaviour there is
something both of formality and politeness, shall this day share
your hospitality if you desire it, Cavalier."

Of Balseiro I have already had occasion to speak in the former part
of this narrative. He was now confined in an upper story of the
prison, in a strong room, with several other malefactors. He had
been found guilty of aiding and assisting one Pepe Candelas, a
thief of no inconsiderable renown, in a desperate robbery
perpetrated in open daylight upon no less a personage than the
queen's milliner, a Frenchwoman, whom they bound in her own shop,
from which they took goods and money to the amount of five or six
thousand dollars. Candelas had already expiated his crime on the
scaffold, but Balseiro, who was said to be by far the worst ruffian
of the two, had by dint of money, an ally which his comrade did not
possess, contrived to save his own life; the punishment of death,
to which he was originally sentenced, having been commuted to
twenty years' hard labour in the presidio of Malaga. I visited
this worthy and conversed with him for some time through the wicket
of the dungeon. He recognized me, and reminded me of the victory
which I had once obtained over him, in the trial of our respective
skill in the crabbed Gitano, at which Sevilla the bull-fighter was
umpire.

Upon my telling him that I was sorry to see him in such a
situation, he replied that it was an affair of no manner of
consequence, as within six weeks he should be conducted to the
presidio, from which, with the assistance of a few ounces
distributed among the guards, he could at any time escape. "But
whither would you flee?" I demanded. "Can I not flee to the land
of the Moors," replied Balseiro, "or to the English in the camp of
Gibraltar; or, if I prefer it, cannot I return to this foro (city),
and live as I have hitherto done, choring the gachos (robbing the
natives); what is to hinder me? Madrid is large, and Balseiro has
plenty of friends, especially among the lumias (women)," he added
with a smile. I spoke to him of his ill-fated accomplice Candelas;
whereupon his face assumed a horrible expression. "I hope he is in
torment," exclaimed the robber. The friendship of the unrighteous
is never of long duration; the two worthies had it seems quarrelled
in prison; Candelas having accused the other of bad faith and an
undue appropriation to his own use of the corpus delicti in various
robberies which they had committed in company.

I cannot refrain from relating the subsequent history of this
Balseiro. Shortly after my own liberation, too impatient to wait
until the presidio should afford him a chance of regaining his
liberty, he in company with some other convicts broke through the
roof of the prison and escaped. He instantly resumed his former
habits, committing several daring robberies, both within and
without the walls of Madrid. I now come to his last, I may call it
his master crime, a singular piece of atrocious villainy.
Dissatisfied with the proceeds of street robbery and house-
breaking, he determined upon a bold stroke, by which he hoped to
acquire money sufficient to support him in some foreign land in
luxury and splendour.

There was a certain comptroller of the queen's household, by name
Gabiria, a Basque by birth, and a man of immense possessions: this
individual had two sons, handsome boys, between twelve and fourteen
years of age, whom I had frequently seen, and indeed conversed
with, in my walks on the bank of the Manzanares, which was their
favourite promenade. These children, at the time of which I am
speaking, were receiving their education at a certain seminary in
Madrid. Balseiro, being well acquainted with the father's
affection for his children, determined to make it subservient to
his own rapacity. He formed a plan which was neither more nor less
than to steal the children, and not to restore them to their parent
until he had received an enormous ransom. This plan was partly
carried into execution: two associates of Balseiro well dressed
drove up to the door of the seminary, where the children were, and,
by means of a forged letter, purporting to be written by the
father, induced the schoolmaster to permit the boys to accompany
them for a country jaunt, as they pretended. About five leagues
from Madrid, Balseiro had a cave in a wild unfrequented spot
between the Escurial and a village called Torre Lodones: to this
cave the children were conducted, where they remained in durance
under the custody of the two accomplices; Balseiro in the meantime
remaining in Madrid for the purpose of conducting negotiations with
the father. The father, however, was a man of considerable energy,
and instead of acceding to the terms of the ruffian, communicated
in a letter, instantly took the most vigorous measures for the
recovery of his children. Horse and foot were sent out to scour
the country, and in less than a week the children were found near
the cave, having been abandoned by their keepers, who had taken
fright on hearing of the decided measures which had been resorted
to; they were, however, speedily arrested and identified by the
boys as their ravishers. Balseiro perceiving that Madrid was
becoming too hot to hold him, attempted to escape, but whether to
the camp of Gibraltar or to the land of the Moor, I know not; he
was recognized, however, at a village in the neighbourhood of
Madrid, and being apprehended, was forthwith conducted to the
capital, where he shortly after terminated his existence on the
scaffold, with his two associates; Gabiria and his children being
present at the ghastly scene, which they surveyed from a chariot at
their ease.

Such was the end of Balseiro, of whom I should certainly not have
said so much, but for the affair of the crabbed Gitano. Poor
wretch! he acquired that species of immortality which is the object
of the aspirations of many a Spanish thief, whilst vapouring about
in the patio, dressed in the snowy linen; the rape of the children
of Gabiria made him at once the pet of the fraternity. A
celebrated robber, with whom I was subsequently imprisoned at
Seville, spoke his eulogy in the following manner. -

"Balseiro was a very good subject, and an honest man. He was the
head of our family, Don Jorge; we shall never see his like again;
pity that he did not sack the parne (money), and escape to the camp
of the Moor, Don Jorge."

CHAPTER XLI

Maria Diaz--Priestly Vituperation--Antonio's Visit--Antonio at
Service--A Scene--Benedict Mol--Wandering in Spain--The Four
Evangiles.

"Well," said I to Maria Diaz on the third morning after my
imprisonment, "what do the people of Madrid say to this affair of
mine?"

"I do not know what the people of Madrid in general say about it,
probably they do not take much interest in it; indeed,
imprisonments at the present time are such common matters that
people seem to be quite indifferent to them; the priests, however,
are in no slight commotion, and confess that they have committed an
imprudent thing in causing you to be arrested by their friend the
corregidor of Madrid."

"How is that?" I inquired. "Are they afraid that their friend will
be punished?"

"Not so, Senor," replied Maria; "slight grief indeed would it cause
them, however great the trouble in which he had involved himself on
their account; for this description of people have no affection,
and would not care if all their friends were hanged, provided they
themselves escaped. But they say that they have acted imprudently
in sending you to prison, inasmuch as by so doing they have given
you an opportunity of carrying a plan of yours into execution.
'This fellow is a bribon,' say they, 'and has commenced tampering
with the prisoners; they have taught him their language, which he
already speaks as well as if he were a son of the prison. As soon
as he comes out he will publish a thieves' gospel, which will still
be a more dangerous affair than the Gypsy one, for the Gypsies are
few, but the thieves! woe is us; we shall all be Lutheranized.
What infamy, what rascality! It was a trick of his own. He was
always eager to get into prison, and now in evil hour we have sent
him there, el bribonazo; there will be no safety for Spain until he
is hanged; he ought to be sent to the four hells, where at his
leisure he might translate his fatal gospels into the language of
the demons.' "

"I but said three words to the alcayde of the prison," said I,
"relative to the jargon used by the children of the prison."

"Three words! Don Jorge; and what may not be made out of three
words? You have lived amongst us to little purpose if you think we
require more than three words to build a system with: those three
words about the thieves and their tongue were quite sufficient to
cause it to be reported throughout Madrid that you had tampered
with the thieves, had learnt their language, and had written a book
which was to overturn Spain, open to the English the gates of
Cadiz, give Mendizabal all the church plate and jewels, and to Don
Martin Luther the archiepiscopal palace of Toledo."

Late in the afternoon of a rather gloomy day, as I was sitting in
the apartment which the alcayde had allotted me, I heard a rap at
the door. "Who is that?" I exclaimed. "C'est moi, mon maitre,"
cried a well-known voice, and presently in walked Antonio Buchini,
dressed in the same style as when I first introduced him to the
reader, namely, in a handsome but rather faded French surtout, vest
and pantaloons, with a diminutive hat in one hand, and holding in
the other a long and slender cane.

"Bon jour, mon maitre," said the Greek; then glancing around the
apartment, he continued, "I am glad to find you so well lodged. If
I remember right, mon maitre, we have slept in worse places during
our wanderings in Galicia and Castile."

"You are quite right, Antonio," I replied; "I am very comfortable.
Well, this is kind of you to visit your ancient master, more
especially now he is in the toils; I hope, however, that by so
doing you will not offend your present employer. His dinner hour
must be at hand; why are not you in the kitchen?"

"Of what employer are you speaking, mon maitre?" demanded Antonio.

"Of whom should I speak but Count -, to serve whom you abandoned
me, being tempted by an offer of a monthly salary less by four
dollars than that which I was giving you."

"Your worship brings an affair to my remembrance which I had long
since forgotten. I have at present no other master than yourself,
Monsieur Georges, for I shall always consider you as my master,
though I may not enjoy the felicity of waiting upon you."

"You have left the Count, then," said I, "after remaining three
days in the house, according to your usual practice."

"Not three hours, mon maitre," replied Antonio; "but I will tell
you the circumstances. Soon after I left you I repaired to the
house of Monsieur le Comte; I entered the kitchen, and looked about
me. I cannot say that I had much reason to be dissatisfied with
what I saw; the kitchen was large and commodious, and every thing
appeared neat and in its proper place, and the domestics civil and
courteous; yet I know not how it was, the idea at once rushed into
my mind that the house was by no means suited to me, and that I was
not destined to stay there long; so hanging my haversac upon a
nail, and sitting down on the dresser, I commenced singing a Greek
song, as I am in the habit of doing when dissatisfied. The
domestics came about me asking questions; I made them no answer,
however, and continued singing till the hour for preparing the
dinner drew nigh, when I suddenly sprang on the floor and was not
long in thrusting them all out of the kitchen, telling them that
they had no business there at such a season; I then at once entered
upon my functions. I exerted myself, mon maitre, I exerted myself,
and was preparing a repast which would have done me honour; there
was, indeed, some company expected that day, and I therefore
determined to show my employer that nothing was beyond the capacity
of his Greek cook. Eh bien, mon maitre, all was going on
remarkably well, and I felt almost reconciled to my new situation,
when who should rush into the kitchen but le fils de la maison, my
young master, an ugly urchin of thirteen years or thereabouts; he
bore in his hand a manchet of bread, which, after prying about for
a moment, he proceeded to dip in the pan where some delicate
woodcocks were in the course of preparation. You know, mon maitre,
how sensitive I am on certain points, for I am no Spaniard but a
Greek, and have principles of honour. Without a moment's
hesitation I took my young master by the shoulders, and hurrying
him to the door, dismissed him in the manner which he deserved;
squalling loudly, he hurried away to the upper part of the house.
I continued my labours, but ere three minutes had elapsed, I heard
a dreadful confusion above stairs, on faisoit une horrible
tintamarre, and I could occasionally distinguish oaths and
execrations: presently doors were flung open, and there was an
awful rushing downstairs, a gallopade. It was my lord the count,
his lady, and my young master, followed by a regular bevy of women
and filles de chambre. Far in advance of all, however, was my lord
with a drawn sword in his hand, shouting, 'Where is the wretch who
has dishonoured my son, where is he? He shall die forthwith.' I
know not how it was, mon maitre, but I just then chanced to spill a
large bowl of garbanzos, which were intended for the puchera of the
following day. They were uncooked, and were as hard as marbles;
these I dashed upon the floor, and the greater part of them fell
just about the doorway. Eh bien, mon maitre, in another moment in
bounded the count, his eyes sparkling like coals, and, as I have
already said, with a rapier in his hand. 'Tenez, gueux enrage,' he
screamed, making a desperate lunge at me, but ere the words were
out of his mouth, his foot slipping on the pease, he fell forward
with great violence at his full length, and his weapon flew out of
his hand, comme une fleche. You should have heard the outcry which
ensued--there was a terrible confusion: the count lay upon the
floor to all appearance stunned; I took no notice, however,
continuing busily employed. They at last raised him up, and
assisted him till he came to himself, though very pale and much
shaken. He asked for his sword: all eyes were now turned upon me,
and I saw that a general attack was meditated. Suddenly I took a
large caserolle from the fire in which various eggs were frying;
this I held out at arm's length peering at it along my arm as if I
were curiously inspecting it; my right foot advanced and the other
thrown back as far as possible. All stood still, imagining,
doubtless, that I was about to perform some grand operation, and so
I was; for suddenly the sinister leg advancing, with one rapid coup
de pied, I sent the caserolle and its contents flying over my head,
so that they struck the wall far behind me. This was to let them
know that I had broken my staff and had shaken the dust off my
feet; so casting upon the count the peculiar glance of the Sceirote
cooks when they feel themselves insulted, and extending my mouth on
either side nearly as far as the ears, I took down my haversac and
departed, singing as I went the song of the ancient Demos, who,
when dying, asked for his supper, and water wherewith to lave his
hands: